Dean's Haunted Life
by aussiedude777
Summary: What will Dean do when the ghosts hunt him for a change? What will he do when no one sees them but him? Life takes a sudden, horrifying twist for the seventeen year old from the day he first saw the head nearly hanging off that young girl's shoulders.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"I won, Dean," Alec said. She rewet the washrag she'd been holding and wiped orange paint out of her long black hair.

The seventeen year old glared at his neighbor, who also happened to be his girlfriend at the time, and shook his head as he scrubbed a splotch of blue off his collarbone. "You lost, what're you talking about?"

"I'm talking about my twenty-two shots to your chest. You lost!"

"Well, I got you thirty times in your stomach, so _you_ lost."

"No, I won."

"I won."

"Nope, you didn't. I did."

"You lost, Alec, you could never beat me at paintball. Even if you tried, you know you'd just lose miserably. Kinda like you did today."

"You know what?" she said.

"I know quite a bit, thank you."

"You fail. P-H-A-L-E, fail!" He stared at her and she laughed. "What?"

"Did you just... nevermind." He shook his head and threw the rag at her face. She shrieked and he took off across the yard. She caught up quickly and tackled him. She rolled him over and pinned his arms over his head. He reversed the move and pinned her own arms down. "You spelled 'fail' wrong."

"Yes, I know. I did it on purpose, genius."

"Of course, you did."

"I'm surprised you even know how to spell 'fail'. Although, you are failing English, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised."

"Are you making fun of me, Alec Anderson?"

"Did I stutter, Dean Winchester?"

He grinned fiendishly and kissed her forehead. "God, I love it when you're being a smartass."

"I know." She leaned her head up and met his lips with hers, softly at first, then more suggestively. She freed her arms from his grasp and ran her hands over his arms.

"Wait," he said, "Sammy's inside."

"So, let's go over to my place. Mom's not home."

He gritted his teeth and exhaled sharply. It was tempting. Very tempting. But he didn't think his dad would appreciate it much. "I can't, Alec."

She kissed him again and gripped his beltloops. "Sorry I brought it up. I didn't mean to do that to you."

He pressed his lips to hers one more time and rolled over onto his back.

"Dammit!" John yelled, "Dean, the car won't start, you take care of it."

"Why can't you do it?" Dean asked.

"I'm too frustrated with it. It's like it has a mind of it's own. It only works for you!"

Dean laughed and Alec stood up. "Lemme do it this time, Dean."

Dean's eyes widened and he jumped up. "Oh, no. No, no, no. You aren't touching that car!"

"Why not?"

"Girls can't fix cars."

She crossed her arms. "Sexist. Girls live in the same society men do. Run by power-hungry politicians, who live in the past when a woman's place was in the kitchen. They're too afraid that we may end up with a female president. We can do almost anything men can, and you all still look down on us. Look at the queen of England! She's a great ruler, and no one's sexist against her. So, why should the rest of us have to deal with some lame guy's stupid-ass idea to treat women like chickenshit?"

Dean's jaw dropped and she raised her eyebrows. "Okay, you can fix the car."

"Thank you." She walked past a stunned John and popped the hood on the Impala. She started cracking up after a moment and pulled a dead squirrel out of the engine. "I think this might be your problem," she informed him, trying to keep a straight face, "John, what did that poor squirrel ever do to you?"

John shook his head and slapped the dead animal to the side of the road as Alec broke out laughing. "Don't make fun of me," he growled.

"Sorry, sir, I'm sorry, it's just so funny!"

Dean's face paled and he stared out into the street.

"Dean?" John said, "What's wrong, son?"

"Dad, please tell me you have a sawed-off with you?" Dean said. John and Alec turned around, but saw nothing.

"Dean, I don't see anything," John said.

Alec touched Dean's arm. "Talk to me, Dean, we don't see it."

"How can you not see that?!" He was breathing hard and he thought he was going to pass out. Standing no more than two feet in front of him was the corpse of a young girl, about seventeen years old. Her skin was whiter than a sheet, and her head was tilted to the right, hanging on a small set of nerves. The inside of her throat was completely exposed, and blood was pouring down the front of her clothes. Her mouth was moving, but all that was coming out were strangled chokes. But suddenly, her head flopped upright, her mouth closed sharply, and she ran at Dean. He fell back onto the grass and she disappeared.

"Dean," John and Alec said, kneeling next to him.

"Are you okay, son?" John asked.

Dean looked at them and at the place where the girl had been, panting.

"Dean." Alec patted his cheek. "Dean, focus, what happened?"

He shook his head. "I don't... I don't know..."

**A/N So, this turned out better than I thought it would. Anywho, please R&R.**


	2. Chapter 2

**First off, I just want to say thanks to EVERYONE who's reviewing. And I promise I'll try to make reading this worth your time. BTW, still don't own anything from Supernatural.**

**Chapter 2**

Dean pressed the heels of his hands to either side of his head as he sat up. What was going on? He'd never been afraid of a ghost before. Any other time, he'd probably gag, shoot her, and be done with it. But this one scared him. He felt his heart racing and could hear the blood pounding in his ears.

"Dean?" John said.

Dean stood up and ran inside. "Sammy? Sam! Sam, I need your help, where the Hell are you?" Sam ran down the stairs.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Okay, you're the smart one. You know diseases, right?"

"Most of them, yeah."

"Okay, good. I'm gonna throw a bunch of symptoms together, tell me what you think's going on." He started pacing madly. "Uh, anxiety, dizzy, hallucinations, and, uh, paranoia. Got all that? Help me, Sam."

Sam sighed, thinking. "Okay, just on a list of five, it could be Labyrinthitis, uh, epilepsy, panic attack, hyperventilation, or... you could be Schizoprenic. Why?"

Dean just looked confused. "I only know what epilepsy, panic attacks, hyperventilation, and Schizophrenia are, genius. What the Hell's Labyrinth... whatever you said."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Labyrinthitis is an inflammation of the inner ear, Dean. Your labyrinth is deep in your ear. Labyrinthitis is usually a viral infection. Got all that?"

"Sure."

"Now, why'd you wanna know?"

Dean sighed. "I saw a ghost."

"Wow. Call 911, we have an emergency," Sam said sarcastically.

"No! Sam, I'm serious. Usually I only see a ghost if I go hunting for them. I didn't this time, it was just there! Her head was falling off, and she was trying to talk, and then she tackled me."

Sam crossed his arms. "Dean, did you ever stop to think that maybe she died out there, and she's stuck?"

"That could be true, but why would she single me out?"

"I don't know. Maybe you look like the person that killed her? Dean, the point is, the chances of a ghost singling you out just to be singling you out is slim to none."

"But you admit there is a chance," Dean pointed out.

"I also said it's highly unlikely."

"I don't care. At least now I have something to go on."

Sam sighed and walked upstairs. Dean shrugged and walked out onto the porch. John and Alec were talking next to the Impala. They stopped when they saw Dean. Alec tilted her head down and walked over to Dean, pressing her hand to his chest.

"Dean, John and I are worried about you. We didn't see anything. I think you should go lie down, so I'm gonna go home. Give me a call when you're feeling better."

"I swear, Alec, I'm not insane."

"I don't think you are. I think you're stressed."

"I'm not stressed, either, Alec, I'm fine! Freaked, but fine."

"Dean, it's not a matter of whether you're fine or not. It's more--"

Before she could finish her sentence, Dean was thrown into the wall at the end of the hallway by the ghost from before. She scratched and clawed through denim and flesh, and Dean yelled in pain. John rushed in with a sawed-off shotgun and Sam sprinted down the stairs.

"Dean, where is she?!" John shouted.

Dean's head snapped to the right, and four deep claw-marks appeared across his cheek. John pulled the trigger and the ghost disappeared. Alec and Sam reached him at the same time. They helped him get his ruined jacket and shredded t-shirt off to inspect the damage as John reappeared with the first aid kit.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you, Dean," Alec cried.

Dean grimaced and bit his lip as John pressed a cloth dipped in alcohol to his torn skin. His whole body was in pain and he pressed his hand to the bloody side of his face. He couldn't force anything in the form of words to come out of his mouth, so he just nodded. Sam moved his hand out of the way and wiped the blood off his skin. Dean shook his head.

"Dean, it's gonna get infected if you don't let us do something about it."

Dean sighed. "I'm gonna go get a shower."

Alec leaned against the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees, panicking. Dean turned to her.

"Al? What's wrong?"

"You could've died. I'm just realizing this. Thank God for sawed-offs," she tried to joke.

Dean kissed the side of her head. "I'm okay, Alec. Don't worry."

She nodded.

"I'll be back in ten minutes, okay?"

She nodded again and he walked up the stairs, constantly looking around.

He turned the water on as hot as it would go and climbed in. He turned so that his back was facing the shower-head and let the water pound on his skin. He sighed and looked down at the deep marks in his chest. He gritted his teeth and growled deep in his chest. He was determined to get rid of this if it was the last thing he ever did.

**A/N I was gonna write more, but I'll just stop here. Please review.**


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